


Meraki

by yukitan



Series: To Balter [1]
Category: James Bond - All Media Types
Genre: Camping, Character Study, Cotton Candy Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Outdoor Sex, Porn With Plot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-08
Updated: 2013-08-11
Packaged: 2017-12-22 19:30:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/917181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yukitan/pseuds/yukitan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Contrary to mass speculation, Q does not spend his days off locked at home tinkering with equipment, as James is quick to find out when he enters the window and is greeted by a spray of viscous black ink.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>(Rating up-ed) James is asked by M to accompany Q when he goes on leave even though 007 is precisely why Q wanted leave in the first place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally meant to be a character study but I ended up writing fluff? Or is it? I don't know what this is anymore hahaha. Written on my phone so there might be errors and stuff please point them out if you do and I'll correct it.

Contrary to expectation, Q does not close himself in dimly lit rooms and oversized computer screens, nor live among his processing units. His personal workspace is very well lit, thank you very much, and he only has 2 working computer screens, each fitted with matte anti-glare film and paired with the latest, newest processing units. His computer inventory is in his basement, and it is beautifully extensive and meticulously organized according to year and type, because he reviews prototypes for a few computer manufacturers, and carefully locked under a complex mechanical and digital system of his own design. Q's bedroom is a door away, and it is sufficiently comfortable with a queen sized bed and mismatched cotton sheets. His drawers and closet line one of the walls, invisible for the matching pattern on the wood that just so happens to be the same as the one of the walls.

Contrary to popular belief, Q does not live on earl grey alone. His kitchen is airy and spacious, a wall fitted table and a duo of bar stools set by it. The fridge is properly stocked by the cleaning service, and sometimes he forgets to wash the plates and pans in the basin of water peering out of the wash basin. Occasionally a friend comes knocking with the pretext of a well made dinner and an intensive gaming session.

"Where is your quartermaster?" James asked when he walked into the department and saw an empty and locked office where Q usually sat.

"He has the week off until Tuesday. Left an hour ago. Weren't you supposed to be accompanying him?"

"Ah. Yes." a vague memory of a sticky note and scrubbed handwriting on top of a pile of printed reports came to mind. "he left early. He wasn't supposed to leave until 1."

"Well, he's not here, that's for sure."

James thought about the skinny, pale man with the curled hair and framed spectacles and his years of people reading.

 "Where does he live?"

 Contrary to mass speculation, Q does not spend his days off locked at home tinkering with equipment, as James is quick to find out when he enters the window and is greeted by a spray of viscous black ink.

~

**Wiltshire. 16:32**

Q is a happy man when he pressed down the last peg and took a step back to admire his handiwork. The one man tent stood sharply silhouetted against the afternoon sun, wind blowing across the hill top that Q had set his camp upon. The rented car was parked a five minute walk away from his camp, under the shelter of a small grove, empty of most of his equipment. Black wires and cables snaked across the grass separating his transportation and the tent, unconnected to anything in particular for the moment.

He turned to the big, black, luggage like case and undid the lock. The black and white device inside gleamed, reflecting the orange afternoon sun. A smile plastered on his face, Q removed the silvery tripod and stood it on an empty patch of grass, securing the white tube with darkened rims on the stand.

In a separate case, he removed his DSLR and planted it on top of a tripod of its own. Switching it on, he checked the screen and battery.

Q shuffled into the tent and took out his personal laptop. Two wires ran from the ports, the other connected to the car battery, another which Q plugged into the camera.

Tonight was the clearest day for the annual Perseid meteor shower. His equipment was all set up to capture the stars and views all around, along with whatever deep space objects he might happen to see. Usually, the idea of taking a day off failed to appeal to him, but it was a proper night out, with no work. He'd left his work phone virtually disabled, switching off all vibration and ringtone with the strict order that nobody was to disturb him. In the darkness of rural england and the light pollution of the city behind him, Q was prepared for a night with nothing but stars and a friendly wood fire for company.

M had ordered 007 to act as his personal bodyguard. Honestly, after the whole skyfall affair, Q thought himself quite prepared to handle whatever was thrown at him. Out of spite, he'd left office early, after ensuring that nothing would go up in flames in his absence. With any luck, he'll be allowed isolation sufficient to set up and spend the night without being bothered by company he'd rather avoid. With even better luck, James would never fins out where he was, and Q could enjoy filtering through his memories of the finely tailored body and rough voice accompanying a certain double O agent.

He pulled his parka closer around himself, glad for the isolaton where the only living souls to see the flush on his cheeks were wary squirrels and the occasional deer, and wandered off to find dry branches and twigs for a fire.

~

**London. 17:19**

"You can stop now." James frowned as he pulled on his shirt. Moneypenny was still breathing hard from laughter, a black towel in her hand.

"You could have asked me if you want to see Q. I have a key to his apartment."

"He's not there. And I know wouldn't give me the key either." Buttoning his shirt furiously, James told the snickering woman. "How was I to know that the only accessible window went into a lockdown and anti theft ink the moment someone enters? I had to high tail it out of there because apparently there's a thirty second police response to the place. I had to bribe Q branch to delete the record."

"Good for you. What do you want to find the quartermaster for, anyway?"

"M's orders."

A clean eyebrow raised in a questionable arch as the woman stared at James in distinct disbelief, before responding in a clipped tone. "You hate body guarding duties. Q can take care of himself well enough."

"Yes, but the quartermaster is... Different. And important. Look, what will it cost me to get you to tell me where he is?"

"You can tell me why exactly,is your true reason to accompany Q throughout his week off."

"Anything else? Please?"

"Six weeks with the Aston Martin."

"You're kidding."

"For a tip."

"With your driving?"

"Seven."

"Three."

"Six."

"Four and my thirty year scotch."

The woman smiled smugly and held out a manicured hand to receive the keys from James' reluctant hand and handed over a green name card. "Wiltshire. Here's his favorite car rental company. I suggest you pack for a night or two out."

~

**Wiltshire. 18:57**

The sun was almost completely gone by the time Q had settled comfortably into his spot. The two hour drive had been long and tedious, and the three hour set up afterwards had been equally consuming, but with the wind blown plains and the darkening silhouette of the castle before him, it might have been worth it after all.

The sunset was beautiful, nevertheless. Pink and yellow was painted across the sky in steaks, dark blue and purple approaching the horizon as they chased the sun behind behind the grassy plains and low lying hills.

No work (his modified MI6 laptop locked securely in his fireproof, floodproof, burglarproof and shockproof basement cum bunker), no notifications (work phone on silent), no surprises (no MI6 identification whatsoever) and beat of all, no double-os to ruin his day.

Or just 007, for the matter.

He chuckled to himself as he lay back on the deck chair, dinner heating in aluminium foil on fire warm rocks, a pot of water for cocoa and coffee boiling over the fire.

The notification for strangers entering the purposefully unsecured window had rattled his phone off the rock he had left it on. Q had opened his laptop to a delightfully chaotic video of James's shock upon being greeted by an explosion of red and black ink and a door that turned out to be an empty wall. Saving the video for future reference and circulation, he barely disabled the automatic lock and police signal it was supposed to send to the met in order to let the disgruntled and messy agent out of his apartment.

So much for dignity. The colours would stain the seat of his Aston for months.

It was a good car, such a pity. Q pulled his scarf closet around his neck and meant forward into the telescope, looking for the brightest star in the sky.

A tiny alert on his mobile flashed. He pulled himself from his seat, checking the time on his watch.

Almost an hour more to sundown and shooting stars. He might as well enjoy the view before the field agent caught on.

~

**M3 motorway. 19:31**

"What in the bollocks is Q doing in South  West England, of all places?" James said into his earpiece as his car rental cruised down the smooth grey road, green pastures and windswept plains to both sides of the road. "Camping?"

"Correct." Eve's clear voice echoed from the other end.

"Isn't he the type who stays at home, plays call of duty or something?"

"I imagine after dealing with you lot regularly, he doesn't quite have the thirst to enter the battlefield, virtually or not."

"So, Wardour castle, is it?"

"Why the sudden obession?"

"He is the quartermaster of MI6 after all. Camping in the middle of nowhere's not exactly safe."

"It's hardly your concern."

"I have better things to be doing. They're on M's orders. Wiltshire's always a good place for sightseeing. Stonehenge and all." James replied, voice dripping with sarcasm.

An angry screech screamed over the receiver. There was a pause and what sounded like car honking in the background.

"Yeah, right. James Bond, offering to play bodyguard out of boredom."

"Was that my car?"

"You were saying, James?"

"Don't worry, I'll cover the insurance."

"Eve."

"Ohh you're getting warm. Reaching Salisbury yet?"

"Do you have me on your tracker or something?"

"Q made an app for tracking license plates."

"fancy."

"Indeed."

"Shouldn't that kind of thing be standard issue?"

"Beta testing."

James turned into a separate road branching off the motorway.

"Good luck, James. And if you don't come back hanging off his arm, I'm going to make sure nothing remains of your car by the time you get your keys back."

He could almost hear her wink over the connection before it dissolved into incessant beeping and silence.

~

**Wiltshire. 20:11**

Q nibbled at the corned beef sandwich from his pack, picking at the wilted lettuce and melted Swiss cheese, a cup of steaming cocoa in the other hand. The moor was getting a little chilly, but the fire at his back was warm enough, as he gazed up at the milky way slowly making its way [1] visible over the black skies.

 The crunch of tires on dirt sent tension dancing in sparks over his spine. Nobody was supposed to know where he was, except Eve. It might be 007, but better safe than sorry. He slipped a hand nonchalantly into the bag he'd brought, fingers closing around the military issue Walter tucked away into a compartment.

The car, stopped and parked next to his own. A tall, broad figure climbed out of the vehicle.

"Who's there?" he stood up, the glow of fire behind his back hiding his face and the silhouette of the weapon under darkened shadows.

"Evening. Care to spare some cocoa?"

"Oh." Q lowered the gun, he smiled pleasantly "Whatever are you doing in Wiltshire, 007? How was my flat?"

"Smashing."

"Pfft." he almost choked in a combination of laughter and suppressed fear. "You're three hours late, you know? I left the message and coordinates in the tablet at your desk."

Q stared at the older man's blank look for a moment, before throwing his head back in laughter. "You didn't check your desk, did you?"

The side of James lip curled slightly, as the dark haired man turned his back to him and tucked the revolver back into the case. Walking around to the circle of rocks where a wood fire blazed in the chilly grounds, he bent down and poked the foil packages glowing in the heat of the blaze. " Rule one, don't touch my equipment. I will murder you. Rule two, find your own cup if you want cocoa. I've got potatoes and marshmallows."

"Aren't you going to chase me off?"

"Well you're already here, it's almost 830 in the middle of nowhere. Might as well offer you dinner and company, yeah? Besides, I can hardly chase off a bodyguard. Might as well make friends with him, I say." Q pulled his chair to the complicated looking set up, checking the laptop screen as he did. "Ah yes, Rule three, no work related conversation."

The echoes of clinking metal filled the silence between the two as James pulled things from his car boot, including a cup, a book, and a belt holster. Q ignored the other man, as he checked his telescope and scribbled something in a notebook outside James line of sight.

Minutes became hours, as Q gradually became more and more engrossed with whatever was on the other end of the telescope.

"Do you do this often?" James asked as he filled his mug with cocoa for the fifth time. It was coming close to midnight, he'd finished writing his mission report for the Tel Aviv mission out of sheer boredom.

"Only sometimes. I like taking out my telescope and camera."

"Why all the equipment?" James glanced at the wires and machinery balanced atop the metal tripod. It seemed a little superfluous for simple stargazing.

"I'm trying a new optic lens."

"Care to show me?"

"Can you tell the difference between the Orion nebula, messier 42 and NGC 1976?"

"... No...?"

"Good, because they're all the same thing. A new piece of knowledge for another day. Besides, it'll take a few hours for the exposure to be captured. I can't see anything yet." he moved away and tossed the notebook next to his laptop, both elevated on a foldable table.

"This comes as a bit of a surprise to me. You, of all people, actually enjoying _camping_?"

"Standing behind a desk is not entirely the most engaging of hobbies. I do, contrary to belief, require fresh air and exercise like any other human. Just irregularly."

"Right." James laughed and took a sip of the chocolate. It was bitter, a little sweet and a little salty, perfectly made. "Can't see much exercise under those layers."

The younger man was perfectly aware of the way his clothing fell in clean, straight lines. He hadn't left his house with the intention of dressing to impress, rather just going with throwing whatever was comfortable and warm into the rental boot. A red and blue checkered shirt was layered under his knitted cashmere sweater, over which he wore a deep olive green parka. "Wouldn't you like to find out?"

"Why not?"

"Flirting with the mark, James, not a good sign." Q grinned. "What time is it?"

"1053."

"Look up." Q said with a nod of his head, turning his eyes to the dark skies above their heads.

A flash of light streaked across the sky, a tail of silver white following it. One after another, stars shot out behind them, lighting up the sky with white lines of stardust. The purple specked milky way behind it twinkled lazily as shooting stars painted slanted lines across them.

"Gorgeous, isn't it?"

James lowered his head from looking at the sky above to appreciating the young man before him instead. Q's eyes were filled with wonder, the dark blue hues and speckled stars reflected on his glasses. The fire next to them threw a soft orange glow on Q's face, dying his dark brown hair a lighter brown.

Wonder was a good colour on Q.

"It's alright."

" _Alright_. Heh. You have no appreciation for beauty."

"I assure you I do, somewhere more down to earth." James stood up, stretching his legs and walked towards the old castle that sat forbearingly in the distance.

"Oi, don't go so close to my equipment."

"I'm not."

"I'm taking a picture. Get out of the way."

"Make me then." James said, the moonlight highlighting the contours of his face in sharp, bold strokes. "Tell me where to stand."

Q stormed around the tripod, tugging his muscular form to a side of the frame. Even under the woolen turtleneck and windbreaker the agent wore, Q could feel the hard contours of his tight, maintained muscles under his fingertips. "Move, you muscular oaf. There. Stand there and don't move for the next twenty seconds." he said, starting back towards the camera, taking care to move away from the frame. "Let's put that figure to good use. You can be my model."

"I never knew photos took so long to capture."

"The creation of art is very different from clicking a button for a hidden lens somewhere on your lapel, Bond. Please don't degrade this to your level."

"I'm not sure I can stay this long in one position."

"Indeed, you have proven yourself to be unable to stand still for an extended period of time, repeatedly. Time to train that skill." Q turned his head away, looking at the castle that served as their backdrop instead. Relief washed over him as he realised that the dark of the night and the orange glow of the fire effectively hid the reddening flush of his cheeks at the closeness of their proximity.

A strong hand closed around his wrist, causing Q to reflexively stiffen. "Is that the remote?"

"Huh?" he looked down at his palm, the wireless controller for the camera clenched tightly in his hand. Raising his head, he barely resisted the urge to jerk back as James stormy blue eyes stared back at him, a hand's breadth from his own.  "Yes- yes, it is."

"Why don't you stay in the frame with me then?" James said, leaning in closer. "Come here."

"James... I mean, Bond, this is..."

"Not professional?" James expression changed into one of a smile that turned the corners of his mouth and wrinkled the corners of his eyes. A fleeting thought of liking to enjoy the sight longer crossed Q's mind, only to be erased by the sensation of the taller man's chapped lips on his own.

"-Good god-" he mumbled incoherently, kissing back hungrily. He briefly registered the click on the camera a stone's throw away as James tugged at Q's hair with his free hand.

They stayed still, tongues fighting for dominance for goodness how long before they finally broke away, breathing hard, gasping for air.

"Tent. Now." Q blinked, eyelashes fluttering under his framed glasses.

"Isn't it a little small?" James smirked, nothing except the slight flaring of his nostrils to give him away.

"I prepped it for comfort. Let's put it to use." Q scoffed. "Much nicer than a car. Or are you more interested in driving down to town, finding a respectable inn then attempting to find the moment again, hmm?" he pulled James to the tent, illuminated by a small electric light hung on the top.

"It's surprisingly comfortable." James climbed inside with what little grace. The bottom of the tent was covered with a soft blanket and two cushions. "What do you use these for?"

"For watching the sun set when it's too cold and or rain." Q said as he threw off his parka, tossing it to a corner. "Let's talk about it when I'm _not_ half dressed, 007."

"I thought we weren't pulling rank?" James smirked, pulling the collar of Q's shirt close for another kiss as nimbler hands tugged his belt open.

Q laughed, bright, cheery laughter echoing through the empty camp, amidst the crackling of fire and wood and shooting stars.

"Just shut up and take it."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What goes on inside behind closed doors... A continuation of the previous chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You asked for smut so here is smut. This is the first time I am writing something explicit that doesn't just end with "they had sex yes bye". I'm actually very embarrassed/(o//w//o)\ have fun (??) reading!

"Just shut up and take it." Q said, mouthing the words against the coarse, warm skin as he placed butterfly kisses under James' ear. " _Commander_."

"Mmm," he nuzzled his nose in the mop of brown hair, shifting his hips backwards and gaining a mumble of annoyance from the man tucked between his knees. "A moment, let me get something first."

"Fine by me. Take your time."

James untangled his legs from Q's and exited the tent, belt still hanging from the loops of his jeans. Checking his shoulder holster, he gave the area another security sweep before returning to the backpack half strewn across the grass surrounding the fire. From the outermost compartment, he pulled out a row of condoms and a small bottle of lube. Tucking the things into the pocket of his windbreaker, James tossed a few more logs into the fire, keeping it burning without requiring tending through the night.

He turned back to the tent, where the blurred silhouette of Q against the electric light stood against the starry backdrop and crescent moon.

He never intended for it to come so far. He had felt the mutual attraction from the moment they had met, growing into less innocent feelings of protection and care, but most of all, curiosity, regarding the quiet, bookish quartermaster and his unpredictability. He could not read him like he did with others, and that frustrated, yet infatuated James. In a good way, it was a mystery that was more about character and personality than espionage and loyalties, and that was what drove him to draw himself closer and closer.

"About time."

The sight of bare, pale skin against the dark blue blankets sent a tingle of heat through James that pooled in a concentrated heap in his nether regions. Q was stripped down to his underwear, sitting with his hands between his bare thighs. Thin white scars cross crossed the younger man's chest, to his surprise, and a splash of brilliant colour decorated his shoulder, inching up his neck in delicate spirals. James made a mental note to ask about it later. Forest green eyes stared at James through thick dark lashes, no longer obscured by the thick frame of his glasses. Out of the wire frames, he looked significantly more mature and less like a geeky, skinny, computer science graduate student.

 Suddenly, his pants felt a tad too tight for comfort.

"Like what you see?"

"God, yes." James shrugged himself out of his windbreaker, then pulled off his turtleneck in one swift motion.

"Mm," a pink tongue ran over Q's lips as he watched James undress appreciatively. He ran a hand down James' muscular stomach, tracing the contours of his torso down to the sharp v and slid his slender fingers under the wristband of his briefs, tugging down the grey cotton.

"Stay still." Soft lips replaced firm fingers as Q peppered light kisses down the inside of James' thigh. Little sparks of electric ecstasy leapt  up his spine as the warmth of Q's mouth enveloped James cock, eliciting a soft moan from the older man. He ran his fingers through the thick mop of brown hair, pulling at the tangled knots as Q's hands pressed at the base of his cock, taking him slowly and deeply into his throat.

"Fuck-" James moaned, pressing the younger man's head down. He could feel Q's muscles tense beneath him as he thrust his hips forcefully into his mouth. "I can't- can't hold it anymore-"

Q lifted his head, drawing his tongue in one lingering stripe up James' leaking cock, teasing the head with nimble fingers instead. "Not a chance."

"You little-"

"Insufferable prick?" he said, lips pulling back over white teeth as he grinned. A slender hand pushed his hair back, and ignoring the grunt of annoyance from James. "That makes one of us. I never give without taking first, Mr Bond. Just because I took the first step doesn't mean I'm going all the way with it."

"Well then..." James said playfully, tackling Q flat on his back, catching a small yelp of surprise as he pinned Q's thin wrists down. "You asked for it."

"I assure you I can take anything you give me." Q replied, lips curling in a half smirk as he raised his hips to press his very interested cock against James. Blonde hair tickled against Q's cheeks as James traced the inked patterns on his shoulder with his tongue before sinking his teeth into the decorated skin. A moan escaped Q's lips as the sudden pain translated itself into highlighted sensitivity, his hands clenching into tight fists as James pressed his bare knee to Q's cock, applying pressure that was just enough to stimulate but quite not enough to present any kind of satisfaction.

 Q's breathe quickened through clenched teeth while James continued nipping down his upper torso in small, teasing bites. Mouthing against his sharp jutting collarbones earned a quick gasp, while twisting his tongue in spirals against Q's nipples gained a suppressed moan and caused his body to stiffen as the unexpected touch sparked sensitive points in his brain and bright spots against his eyes.

 James hummed, the vibrato of his throat against Q's chest as he pressed his ear to listen into Q's fluttering heartbeat. "If you want to play an endurance game..."

"And we both know it'll be daybreak by the time one of us gives in." Q tugged a wrist from James' grasp, lifting his hips up to pull off his pants. His cheeks were still flushed from James' teasing, leaning up to hook the taller man's neck and pulling him down for a kiss.

They broke away, a trail of saliva connecting the two briefly until James lent over Q to pick out the bottle from his discarded jacket. The brunette casually lifted James' free hand to his lips, suckling at his fingers as he stared at James through batted lashes and clear, unclouded eyes despite the obvious crimson adorning his cheeks.

"Always the cool headed one," James lifted Q's legs above his shoulders, running a wet finger along the inside of Q's pale thighs. He hardly expected to feel lean muscle under his grip as Q tensed under the cold touch. "How much does it take to break that, hmm?"

Q blinked slowly and deliberately as he placing his hands behind his head. "Try me."

"Gladly." James pressed a lube slicked finger into the ring of tight muscle between Q's legs, pressing slowly into his body. Following the first finger, he slipped another in, gently massaging the entrance, slowly scissoring his fingers and stretching and slickening the entrance. Another hand slowly massaged Q's cock in addition to the finger fucking.

"God fucking damn it." Q gasped, thrusting his hips into James' fingers. Ripping off a foil pack with his teeth, James rolled the condom over his cock, almost painful from the lack of stimulation, and lined himself up against Q's entrance.

"Ah-" the first thrust entered Q with ease, bright spots exploding in Q's vision as James filled him, then gradually thrust slowly into him. "Fu-ck-"

"You're so... Fucking... Tight." James groaned in appreciation as he entered Q, holding him firmly by his hips. With a grunt, he pulled himself out, keeping the head teasingly in Q as he bent down and bite the sensitive spot surrounding Q's nipple.  In response, Q's back arched up, pushing his body closer towards James as he tried to push more of James into himself.

Leaning over the leaner man, James thrust into Q, quick and hard and deep, reeling with a mixture of various types of satisfaction, from the warmth of his cock buried deep inside Q, to watching the slight widening of emerald eyes and a happy haze glazing over Q's pupils as he mouthed incomprehensible words against James' skin.

"Fuck me harder, James," Q said, rolling his hips together with James thrusting motions, getting hard grunts from the older man. His hands ran over the muscular torso, exploring every scar and burn and curve and dip, fingers digging into hard flesh when James hit his prostrate, sending fireworks that burnt a searing white into the back of his eyes and left his mind briefly empty with a happy glaze.

Even as James pressed deeper into Q's body, he could feel the pool of heat become almost unbearable, James as well, as he stared purposefully into the stormy blue pupils.

"Fuck, Q!" he yelled, giving himself into Q with a shudder and shout. The waves of pleasure rolled off him in satisfied, excited phases, his mind blank with nothing but his release as he came inside Q.

Q followed a second after, his load spilling over James hand and stomach. His body clenched tight on James as he came, sending his orgasm higher. The two grasped tight onto each other, nails almost enough to draw blood, as they reveled in each others pleasure, finally relaxing and falling onto the soft blanket.

James rolled onto the space beside Q, grasping his hair and kissing him as he lay next to him on the blankets. The lamp flickered above them, sending shadows dancing across the cloth as the wind outside pushed gently at the polyester.

"Hmm, you were so loud, I wouldn’t be surprised if the nearest town heard you." Q teased when they finally released each others lips. "If the police comes knocking tomorrow, you can explain."

"Explain what, your very illegal camping ground?"

"Heh." Q punched James playfully, rolling back and pulling a loose sheet over himself. "Go to sleep. It's safe. I set up surveillance hours before you got here, relax. Now do your job and keep me company."

"Not part the job description but..." James smiled, biting Q's ear playfully before lying down, arm draped over his torso and eyes detailing every little raised line and knotted scars on his otherwise bare back. "Goodnight."

The gentle rising and fall of the warm body next to him and lack of a clever retort led James to return his arm next to his body as he turned to look at the gently swaying cloth above him and the electric lamp. Leaning up, he just managed to unhook it and switch it off, letting the glow of the fire outside to throw orange tinted shadows across Q's sleeping face.

He'll ask about everything when day broke. For now, he was satisfied with watching the peaceful expression on the brunette’s face, wondering about the type of dreams he had under the cover of star-lit skies and a warm campfire.

**Author's Note:**

> If enough people ask me for smut, I'll write it.


End file.
